


Memory and the Sea

by pluto



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-21
Updated: 2011-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:58:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor recalls the Corsair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory and the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mind_the_tardis](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=mind_the_tardis).



> For mind_the_tardis.

There's not much that goes on in the TARDIS without the Doctor knowing on some level, but he doesn't really _pay attention_ to the fact that Amy is just behind him until she says,

"You miss him, yeah?"

She sits down beside him and tilts her head towards the snake-tattooed box in his hands. The Doctor found it in his pocket not too long after he shooed Amy and Rory off to bed. Well, _found_ isn't really the right word; remembered it was in his pocket is more like it. Like Amy's presence in the control room, he always knew it was there, but wasn't really paying attention to it.

He could lie to her, of course, and she might even believe him, but he doesn't. He just changes the subject: "Missing the bunk beds are we? Of course you are! And do you know why? Because bunk beds are cool. Although--waterbeds are cool too. Oh, maybe you'd rather have a waterbed?"

His grin disarms her, as he meant it to, and she swats at him. "No," she says, "And you'd better leave it or I'll tell River how you blush whenever I bring up--"

"Pineapples. Yes well pineapples are very naughty, you know, I once saw a pineapple scandalize an entire roomful of sailors. And those little scales--or bumps--or whatever those knobby little things are all over the fruit...!"

"You're avoiding the subject," she says, jabbing her finger into his shoulder.

"Am I?" He gives her an innocent look and she says,

" _Doctor!_ " in that way that always makes him laugh and Rory hop-to.

"I _suppose_ you don't have to tell me," she relents, but even as she does so, she crosses her arms over her chest and looks like a little girl forced to say sorry without meaning it a whit.

"I don't," he agrees, and before she can get irritated, he continues, "but all the same, I suppose the Corsair would like it if I did. Bit of a show off, that one."

He ignores the "pot/kettle" look that Amy directs his way. "His TARDIS might as well have had a broken chameleon circuit. Always made a big entrance in the baddest shape he could think of. Once popped in on a Sontaran battle cruiser--by popped in, of course, I mean materialized right into the heart of central command--as a Kremk raider. A fully armed, radiation-leaking, X-winged Kremk raider in that tiny little space. Can you imagine! No, I don't suppose you can. Sontarans, they're a rather unpleasant bunch, and then he arrives with this nasty little fighter, gets them all worked up--!"

Faced with Amy's blank stare, he nods sagely.

"Oh, nevermind. But it was a hoot! Laughed about it for years, he did. Well, he was a she at the time, but... Had a companion in those days--a squirrel--"

"A squirrel?"

"Yes, well, he could never get the whole pirate thing right. Not that corsairs are pirates. And you'd better not mix that up around the Corsair. Corsairs raided and pillaged on behalf of their governments, he'd tell you--repeatedly, mind you, like you were some kind of idiot. But the Corsair, he really didn't know any better, and he'd always come leaping out of his TARDIS shouting 'Ahoy friend-y!' or 'Avast, I'll shiver ye forests!'"

Amy bursts into giggles at that. "'Shiver ye forests'? What's that even supposed to mean?"

"No idea," the Doctor agrees, nodding. "I suppose someone told him that pirates--er, corsairs--ought to have parrots. Only he couldn't stand birds, so he got a squirrel. That went well until the thing bit him on the ear..."

"Sounds brilliant," Amy laughs.

"You would've liked him, I think," he says, more thoughtfully. "Well. Maybe. If he hadn't been too deep into the space-rum."

"Space rum! Now you're just making things up!"

"With the Corsair," he gives Amy his most serious look, "I don't have to."

He's quiet then, and he's grateful when she doesn't press him further, just sits there, studying the distress signal in his hands. She's probably imagining adventures for the Corsair, and she probably isn't far off, he guesses. He could let her hold the box--almost does, briefly, wondering if she will hear the Corsair's voice even as he does, feel the impression of his being, of his soul.

Quick to wit as to anger, brave and cowardly at once, fiercely just and as bloodthirsty as any Time Lord ever was on a bad day. The Doctor supposes they were not so different, not in the ways that mattered. But the Corsair always swore he would do anything for Gallifrey, blast the rest of the universe, where the Doctor--

Well. He'd always dreaded their paths crossing, in that last Time War. Had been certain that he'd sent his friend to his death, the same as all the others, as mad for power as the Master.

Was it worse, this fate? Trapped on House, forced to witness the death of his TARDIS, half-eaten, half-rotted in the body of a human where it didn't belong...

The Doctor flinches away from that. He and his TARDIS nearly met the same end. He wonders without wanting to: did Auntie and Uncle tear the Corsair to pieces while he still lived? Did he try to regenerate, or did he submit without fighting after the death of his TARDIS?

The Corsair not fighting seems as impossible as the lack of Time Lords in all the universes. Some part of the Doctor wants--needs--to believe, even though he knows better. He had looked at the graveyard of dead TARDISes. Had heard his own TARDIS's grief, and felt the beginnings of an unspeakable despair.

The Doctor closes his hands over the circular snake-tattoo, puts the box back into his pocket. He looks over at Amy; she's dozed off, leaning up against the console, her cheek mashed hard into her hand.

"Bedtime story's over now, Pond," he says, gently shaking her. She rouses, mumbles, and he watches her carefully as she shambles her way out of the control room. She pauses just before the exit, turns sleepily towards him.

"Thanks," she says,

and he says, "For the waterbed?"

"The--what?" Her eyes widen. She hurries out of the room, to investigate, of course, and he expects her to be back eventually to berate him for tricking her. He smiles a little to himself, and says to the door,

"Thank you, Amelia Pond."

Because it hurts to remember the Corsair, but that's better than not remembering. He feels the edges of the signal cube against the inside of his hand, and thinks that he'll keep it. Maybe he'll lose it for a while, but it will always be there, and he'll always be able to find it if he really wants to. A memory, if not the real thing.

He touches the TARDIS console and feels her reassurance, her sadness, her remembrance, and feels less alone.


End file.
